Cooper, Ethel – April 1918

7.4.18My dear Emmie,

I spent this morning (of all places in the world!) at a committee meeting in the Leipzig Exchange. There is a project on hand for helping artists in distress. The idea is originally an American one, but has been flourishing in Copenhagen for eleven years. A book of tickets is sold for 3/- (in the books here there are 50 tickets) and during one week, these tickets admit you to practically everything worth seeing and hearing in the town. The old Exchange, a beautiful little hall built in 1692, has been lent to them, and all the singers and actors and musicians of the town are helping. You can imagine my amazement at getting a request to join the committee, and I must say I hesitated, but as art seems to me to stand outside any national or political questions, I said yes, and this morning I find myself put on to two programmes, one tomorrow and one on Saturday.

I am curious to see whether I shall have any unpleasantness of any sort – it is more than possible, but is really such a matter of indifference to me now.

I must go and practise, so goodbye for this week.

14.4.18My dear Emmie,

I have spent every day this week at the Old Exchange, helping at the Artists’ Aid Week. It was a success, I believe such crowds of people came, that they often stood in a polonaise before the door, waiting for room to get in.

I had no unpleasantness of any sort during the week, except for a little incident on the second day, which amused me, and gave me a chance of speaking my mind for once in a way. I was to play, got a programme as usual, and found that ‘Piano Solo’ was printed on it, without my name. I said I noticed from the programme that I was not playing. They said it was a most stupid and unfortunate mistake that my name had been omitted by the printer. They said no more, but found somebody else to play instead, and on the following day, I found my name on the programme, and of course played.

21.4.18
My dear Emmie,

I have been busy sewing – I unpicked my old fur-lined coat that I bought in Adelaide in 1910, and have lived in for the last two years, and even slept in during the great cold. Then I dyed the cloth dark-brown, and have taken it to be remade, as a summer coat, without any lining.

28.4.18
My dear Emmie,

Miss James was here on Friday…..She arrived with a large parcel and I found on the top a little packet of tea – then a very nice blue voile blouse, and finally a most beautiful white lace dress. She said they had been ordered some time ago, and she had scarcely worn them as they were too young for her and would I accept them. I don’t think one need have any false pride about accepting clothes from one’s countryfolk in these times, do you?